Good Girl
by LeighJ11
Summary: Beth Greene is a Good Girl, just not quite in the way that the townsfolk or even her family think she is. She's got a secret, one she's had for nearly a year now and it's got Daryl Dixon's name all over it. Rated M for swearing, sexual scenes and slight kink. You've been warned.


**Oh,** **yeah. It's me again. Told you guys I had loads of ideas and they're dying to be written. I loved writing Daryl and Dani, but I am a hardcore Bethyl fan and this one shot flowed out of me today. My first time writing Beth and as when I wrote Daryl, I'm quite nervous. Really hope I did justice to the characters and I hope you guys like this. Look out for some more Bethyl, because I promise it's coming and if you guys have any ideas then hit me up, would love to hear them. Please, please review. This is my first Bethyl after all and I've read some great pieces for these guys, mixing in with that is fucking scary. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or these characters. I make no profit from this piece and only the plot is mine. I also have no beta, so all mistakes are my own.

Perfect little Beth Greene.

She knows it's what they all say about her. Neat little braid in her ponytail, a soft smile on her young face, pretty blue eyes and her daddy's precious baby girl. They look at Beth and they hear her sing and they think Good Girl, with all the capitals and everything. A sweet girl. A voice like an angel. They see her in church on a Sunday, volunteering at the hospital on Tuesday, the pet shelter on Thursday, studying at the library Monday and Wednesday, all while she helps her daddy look after the farm. They know she's up at the crack of dawn and they know she gets in well past the end of school, after volunteering or studying because she's a Good Girl.

They look at Beth Greene and they see innocence. They see what they want to see. Because what they don't know? Little Beth Greene on a Friday night, climbs down the tree outside her window -the gnarly one that's been there since she was born- and she runs. Runs across the farm and into the dense darkness. What they don't know?

Good Girl Beth Greene is fucking Daryl Dixon.

It started in the summer. Isn't that how these things always go? He was a farm hand, still is. She's known him all her life because that's how long he's worked for her daddy. He built her the swing in the tree out front when she was four, repaired the stables where her horse was kept when she was six. Which is why maybe no one suspects that there's anything less than an innocent friendship between them. She's young, he's not and that's that. Beth's a Good Girl, and Daryl Dixon isn't exactly a bad man, but he's quiet. Keeps to himself, lives out of town -close to the farm- and works from sun up to sun down.

Sometimes you see him on a Saturday night in the bar, drinking a beer. He's quiet and he's weird. He's been around since anyone can remember, but no one knows him, except the Greene's. He's still a mystery, nearly twenty years later. They townsfolk still don't know where he come from, before. They've never seen him with family, he's never mentioned them and no one's ever come looking for him either. He's not even that much of a mystery. He's a piece of town that's always been there. He just _is._ He's just Daryl. But she's _Beth Greene._ She's Hershel's baby girl and Maggie and Shawn's kid sister and everyone knows her.

Except they don't.

Because they don't know that she lost her virginity in the barn on a hot summers afternoon. They don't know that she likes to be fucked where someone might stumble across them and catch her. They don't know that she's fucking a man twice her age, a man she's known her whole life. They don't know about her and Daryl. If they did… _if they did._ It would be hell, so it's a secret. It's been a secret for nearly a year now. It's been a secret that's changed her whole life. It's been a secret that's slowly transforming her, shaping her. They started this whole thing when she was seventeen and now she's eighteen, soon she'll be nineteen.

Now it's getting to the point where her whole adult life is coming for her head on. She doesn't know what she wants to do when she gets out of high school. She doesn't know if she wants to go to college or see more than the farm, travel. She doesn't know if she wants to stick around town, maybe stay with Daryl if she can hide from everyone she knows.

She doesn't know what she wants, yet. But one thing she's absolutely certain of is that whatever life she makes for herself, she wants Daryl to be a part of it. She wants to crawl into bed with him at the end of the night, wake up with him in the morning. She wants to be in his company, be his best friend. She wants to keep getting butterflies when she sees him.

Like now.

All the car lights are off and he's silent in the front seat. The first time they did this the butterflies in her stomach hadn't been entirely excitement. He had looked creepy then until she reminded herself that it was Daryl, the man she had known her whole life and he would look creepy now if she hadn't done this so many times.

She reaches the passenger side and pulls the door open quietly, settling into the seat and throwing her backpack over her shoulder. "Hey."

Daryl turns the key and begins to reverse, but he spares her a look between the dark fringes of his hair. "Hey."

Beth clips her seat belt then reaches her hand across to grip his thigh. "How was your day?"

"You saw me couple hours ago," Daryl replies, amusement colouring his tone.

"I know," Beth says with a smile. "You know I'm gonna ask though."

"Yeah, I do." He glances at her with an almost smile and then backs out to the road.

"So, what're our plans?" She asks as she crosses her legs.

He doesn't look over at her. "Plans?"

She rolls her eyes. "You do this every time. Where we goin'?"

Daryl's lip tugs just slightly, fighting a smile. "Ain't got no plans, girl. Just goin' back to my place."

Beth glances out the window and smiles. "Okay."

Usually, they go somewhere. Far out of town, at least two towns over where nobody recognises them. Her parents are early sleepers, pretty much always asleep by nine and so her and Daryl usually have enough time to pick her up, go someplace for food and then back to his place for the night, all before he drives her back to the farm at dawn. They've had a lot of dates, though Daryl doesn't label them like that. So, it's a surprise that they're just going to his place tonight, but it's not upsetting. Any amount of time that they spend together is exactly what she wants.

When they travel out far and people see them together, see their age difference, she doesn't care. They judge Daryl, she can see that and sometimes they judge her, perhaps believing she's with him for a reason other than love. Money, most likely or some other privilege. She never cares, although she knows Daryl does, but it is also draining. To have your guard up all the time, to be ready for a loud mouth drunk to call Daryl a pervert. So, this is nice. This is good. Daryl's place for the night. His big, soft bed and his arms. Sure, she'll have to set her alarm early and they'll have to sneak her home like they always do, but it's worth it.

Anything's worth it to be with him.

Daryl only lives fifteen minutes out from the farm, so they reach his place fairly quickly and upon arrival she turns and hunts in the backseat for her bag. "So, we got no plans at all?"

"That a problem?" Daryl asks as he shuts his door.

"No," Beth answers, though it's muffled because the hunt for her bag isn't going too well. "You need to clean your car, Daryl."

Daryl snorts and Beth finally reaches her bag. "Got it." Just as she's worming her way between the front and passenger seat, she feels a pinch on her ass and yelps. "Daryl!"

He does laugh now, adding a small smack to the pinch. "We got some plans, girl."

She gets out a little flushed, her thighs clenching together, but a smile lights her face. "Okay."

They link hands on the way up the drive and Beth's smile widens at the sight of his little house. There's not much to it. It's all one floor and it's simple. Open plan living room that fades into the kitchen. There's no dining room, but Daryl has a small table by the window in the kitchen that looks out on his shrubby garden. Considering he's worked a farm for twenty years, tending to repairs, animals and sometimes crops, his small garden isn't winning any awards. Even still, Beth's always looked over at the little table, wishing she could wake up one morning, not at four am, but whatever time she decides and eat breakfast with him.

Wishes she could look out at all the weeds and the dead plants and tease him for it. From the living room, there's a tiny hallway that ends in Daryl's room and to the left, a bathroom. It's small, simple and sparse. Twenty years hasn't made it a home, just a place to eat and sleep, but whilst it's primarily Daryl's, it feels like it's theirs. No one comes here. Daryl doesn't really have friends, has no family. As far she's aware, she's the only person to ever visit his home. The only woman he's had in his bed and she likes that. This is their place, their secret. No one can reach them here.

Not the townsfolk or her daddy, not any of her friends of Maggie's, who would rush to tell her that her little sister, Good Girl Beth Greene is being groomed or taken advantage of. There's no judgement here. There's just them and Beth is more than happy with that. More than happy for it to stay that way.

"You hungry?" Daryl asks as he unlocks the front door.

Beth shakes her head. "You?"

"Could eat," he mutters as the door swings open.

"Eat then, nothin' stoppin' you," she replies with a grin.

Daryl flicks the lights on as they enter and Beth glances around, even though she's seen it all so many times before. She takes off her shoes and hangs her jacket as Daryl locks the door behind them. He follows her movements, hanging his coat and untidily yanking his boots off, dropping them to the floor without care.

"C'mon." He takes her hand in his, guiding her straight through the darkness of the living room and down the hall, to his room.

She only has to see the door, feel his rough palm in hers and her breathing picks up. Between her legs, a small dull ache is beginning and her heart has already sped up. It's like this every time. No matter where they are, what they're doing, who's around, he makes her feel like this. Damp palms, racing heart and pulsing between her thighs. He glances back at her as he pushes his bedroom door open and he's not smiling, not making any kind of face, but she knows him. She knows internally he feels the same, she knows that he's aware of what he's doing to her and when she glances down she sees the tent his cock is starting to make in his jeans.

Beth's throat closes up and her mouth dries out as he flicks the bedroom light on, moving around the bed that takes up most of the room to fix the blinds. She reaches behind her to flick the bedroom light back off and in turn, Daryl hits the switch for the lamp beside the bed. It's their ritual. He needs the overhead light to reach the blinds and lamp, then she turns it off before she makes her way over to the bed, as she is now. Her heart is still racing and she's getting wetter whilst her mouth gets drier, her eyes continuing to seek out Daryl's apparent erection as she sinks down onto the mattress.

"This why we ain't goin' out tonight?" She asks.

Daryl turns from the blinds and walks to the side of the bed where she's sat, standing between her spread legs. "That a problem?" He asks again.

Beth bites down on her lower lip. "No, Sir."

Daryl's eyes flutter shut on a deep exhale, his hands falling to her spread thighs and gripping. Tight. His hold is tight already, where usually he's slow at the beginning. Works his way up to it. His lack of control makes her stomach flip, makes her lips part and her legs spread wider on a barely perceptible moan.

"Good girl," he whispers.

If only they knew, that Beth Greene isn't just a Good Girl, but that she's Daryl Dixon's Good Girl.

Daryl's left hand lifts from her thigh and spears itself into her hair, lifting the band of her elastic so that multiple strands of blonde curls fall around her face. His fingers tighten and pull back, tipping her head back and straining her neck, mouth descending as Beth's eyelids do, closing to block the visual that tears her apart every time. Daryl Dixon bent over her, his hot mouth pressed to her throat and the coarse hair of his beard scraping her delicate skin. She releases another aching moan, her stomach tightening with excitement.

A delicate shift of her hips is all the friction she needs against her swollen clit and that tells her how quickly he's unravelled her. This game is one she never wins. He always unlayers her, strips away her insecurities, her uncertainties and her identity. He takes away expectations and titles, thoughts muddling her head. He leaves behind a mass of nerves ready to be pulled tight, wound until he's ready to release them. He remakes her and she loves it every single time.

"Daryl," she breathes, her back arching and legs spreading.

He ignores her, his mouth hard and hot on her neck, moving from the shell of her ear to the hollow of her throat and over to the other side. He's lazy, languish as he wets her neck with kisses, as he tightens those nerves and plays with them, prepping them for the delicious agony he always bestows her.

"Beth," he whispers, his fingers tightening in her hair. "God, girl."

She whimpers, her eyes fluttering as they struggle to decide whether they want to be open or not. "Please."

"Please what?" He murmurs across her flesh.

"Please… just do somethin'. Please, Daryl," she begs.

Daryl's mouth stops and he bites, quick and hard. "Try again."

Beth whines, the pain spreading like liquid across her throat, flowing down into her chest and tightening her nipples. "Sir! I meant Sir. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I meant… I meant please, Sir," she gasps.

Daryl hovers over her throat, his hand still in her hair but loosening now, dragging the elastic with his fingers so that her hair is unbound. It tumbles free as he lifts away from her, her curls spreading across her shoulders to fall down her back. Her small braid falls forward, across her face and he moves it aside with his forefinger, coming back to stroke her cheek.

"What do you call me, girl?" He whispers, gazing at her between his hair.

"Sir. I call you Sir," she whimpers, her head still tipped back even without his assistance.

"Good girl. I'll let you have this as a warning, now strip," he orders, pulling away to stand over her.

Beth keens low in her throat, everything throbbing, every nerve alive. He's barely touched her and she's soaked, her underwear uncomfortable and her jeans even more so. Her nipples ache where they rub against her bra and every movement of her hair is like electric sparks across her skin.

He's trained her well.

She nods, more than happy to get her clothes off, more than happy to show him what he's done to her. Her top comes off first in a rush and she hastily reaches for her bra but his hand on her stomach stops her, steadies her. He wants her to do it slowly. Be enticing. She swallows softly but nods. They've done this so many times and insecurity isn't a thing with them anymore. His scars and her small breasts, small hips. They're no longer an issue and she knows that Daryl loves her body, as she loves his, but she still wishes she had more meat on her bones to give him a real show.

It's not insecurity, it's just a thought, so there's no hesitation as she reaches back for the clasp of her bra, shaking her hair back so that it falls down her shoulders. No hesitation as her bra releases its hold on her chest and she shimmies it down her arms. Daryl's face is expressionless but she knows him and as he undoes the button of his jeans she smiles. Her jeans are next, a flick of a finger undoes her button and her zip follows. The fabric gives around her waist, pooling down her thighs until she pushes it the rest of the way down her knees and past her socks. Daryl jerks his chin at her as he reaches into his jeans and pulls out his hard, smooth cock.

Beth's throat convulses at the sight and her mouth pools with saliva. There is nothing she remembers so vividly as they day he taught her to suck his cock. They'd been fucking for months, had already done it in so many places. But this was the first time she called him Sir. It had been an accident, truly. She was a Good Girl and her daddy taught her manners. She called every woman Ma'am and every man Sir because that's what Good Girls do. Daryl had asked her a question, one she's long forgotten and on the brink of cumming, she had accidentally answered him with ' _yes, Sir.'_

He'd frozen for a moment and so had she, thinking that this was the moment he realised how fucked up she was. Wanting to fuck the man who she had known her whole life, getting a thrill whenever they were somewhere they could be caught. Except he hadn't done that. He had taken on the role without comment and he ordered her to ' _suck my cock, girl.'_

Now he does the same thing, holding his hard cock leaking pre-come and jerking his chin once more. "C'mon, girl. Suck it."

She drops to her knees without having to be told again, her small hand sliding over Daryl's. He shudders as she looks up at him and she waits. "Do what you want, girl. I'll let ya tonight."

Beth moans again, her eyes slightly unfocused. She takes a moment to just look. To take in all his length, all the soft flesh that's been inside her many times. To look at the wetness gathering at the tip, the harsh veins crawling across the underside, one of her favourite places to flutter her tongue. She decides to do that first. Sticking her tongue out and tightening her hand, she leans forward and trails that vein with the very tip of her tongue, soft as she can. Daryl groans, his hand tugging out from under hers. Beth's lips tug upwards for a moment until she flattens her tongue across the underside of his cock, trailing it from the base to the tip.

Daryl's hands appear on either side of her head, his fingers cupping her cheeks tight. "C'mon girl, don't waste your chance."

"Thought I could do what I wanna do?" She answers with a grin.

His throat is gravelly when he answers her. "Don't push me, Beth. You know what happens when you're not a good girl. Suck it."

She whimpers and swipes her tongue across the head of his cock which is dark and glistening with his arousal. Daryl's head falls back between his shoulders as she looks up and she laughs softly, enjoying herself. It's heady, having control over him. She can see why he likes to control her. He does that now, his hands tightening on her face and his cock pressing against her lips until she's forced to part them. She chokes momentarily as he bottoms out without waiting for her to adjust. He doesn't allow her a moment either, instead pressing deeper until her eyes are watering and her nails dig into his hips.

Daryl pulls his cock out when he deems fit, leaving Beth coughing. "You gonna keep bein' a little cock tease?"

She shakes her head, her pussy _throbbing._ He's perfectly aware that gagging her with his cock makes her drip like nothing else and his soft smile tells her that now. "Don't matter, you're done."

Beth whimpers and shakes her head. "I'll be good, I swear. Please, Dar- Sir."

"What was that?" He asks, slowly gliding his cock over her parted lips.

Beth's stomach clenches. "I said please, Sir."

"Nah, I don't think you did."

She shakes her head quickly, her chest heaving. "No, Sir. I swear-"

"You know what I do when you're bad, girl." He cuts her off, his hand gripping her hair again. "Get up."

She moans low in her throat as she clambers to her feet, every rub of her thighs is torture. She's shaky as she stands and Daryl's hand loosens, his eyes asking her what his mouth won't. Beth nods, a small smile on her face. She's more than okay. He knows he can keep going. She wants him to.

He jerks his chin at her. "Turn 'round. Bend over, get that ass in the air."

She turns, bends so that her hands are pressed to the mattress and her legs are spread. Daryl tsks behind her and shoves one of her knees on the mattress too so that she's spread open. His calloused fingers are rough as they stroke her lower back and Beth shivers, a whine in her throat.

"You remember what happens to bad girls?" He asks from behind her.

Beth clenches her hands in his bed sheet and closes her eyes on a whimper. "Yes, Sir."

"How many you deserve you think?" He asks as he pulls her panties down.

She moans softly, spreading her legs as far as the fabric allows. "Five, for not callin' you Sir."

"Good girl. Seems you can 'member ya punishment but not what you should call me. M'gonna add another two for that."

She presses her hot cheek to the bed and nods, her breathing shallow as the air meets her wetness. "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl. Ya ready?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Count."

"Yes, Sir."

There's an empty pause full of tense anticipation where Beth's heart races and her pussy throbs. There's already a pain gracing her ass cheeks, despite the slap that's not yet arrived. He's done this so many times now that she knows exactly what it feels like. She knows how the burn is agony until the third smack when it pulses like hot lava into her cunt. The moment is breathless, silent and then it's filled with the sound of his large palm meeting her ass. She cries out, her hand tightening until her knuckles are white and her ass is stinging in the cool air.

"One," she croaks.

He does it again.

"Two."

Again.

"Three."

This is where the burn spreads, drips like honey down her thighs. Daryl's hands pause only for a moment so that a finger can catch a droplet and scoop it up, rub it across her hot flesh. Usually, he would comment that she's enjoying it too much and those seven hits would be doubled without mercy. He doesn't tonight and as he smacks her and she calls _four, five,_ she knows it's because he's eager. He's done well holding off, teasing her, unravelling her. He's shown a sliver of patience, but he's done now. He wants to fuck her, he wants to cum and she wants to cum with an intensity that's inhumane.

Another hard slap, twice in quick succession. She calls it off, "six, seven," in a gasp.

She's sweating, her hair sticking to her and her face is on fire. Her cunt is like an angry, burning wound that needs to be dealt with and she's begging, almost immediately after the end of her punishment, she's begging to be fucked.

Daryl laughs and slides a finger into her pussy where his laugh cuts off into a groan. "Jesus, girl."

"Please," she whispers desperately, her eyes clenched shut. "Please, I wanna cum."

"Okay. S'okay I got you." He presses across her back; his hand finds hers and their fingers curl together.

Beth lifts her ass higher, feeling his hard cock settle against her burning flesh. His hand soothes both cheeks before he grips his cock and notches it between her thighs. "This what you want?"

"Please," she asks again, her breathing stifled by his weight.

He presses his head against her shoulder blades and guides himself into her. Beth groans long and low, the groan developing into a hiss of satisfaction as he works himself in, pulls out and pushes back in again. "C'mon girl, you can take it."

She spreads her legs, the fabric of her panties cutting into her with the effort. Daryl pushes once more and bottoms out with a thick moan. "Good girl."

He's still for just a moment as he rearranges himself, lifting his upper body only a little as he works his hips, pushing his cock into her tight cunt. Moans spill out of her mouth without guidance, her brain a mess of sensation. He does this to her every time. Reduces her to a pile of bones before he even makes her cum.

"You wanna cum, right?" He pants, pushing deeper.

"Yeah," she sobs. "I do, please, _God_ , I do."

"Good, 'cause I ain't gonna last when your cunt's this tight."

She sobs again, her stomach clenching as he fucks her faster, his hand tightening around hers. His hips are brutal against her ass, his cock buried so deep and hard inside her she's seeing stars. Her swollen clit brushes rough against the bed sheet and her nipples are so tight it hurts.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she gasps.

It's so good. It feels so fucking good and she's going to cum. She knows it and she's almost there, reaching out desperately as Daryl's cock fucks her deep into the mattress. Then it's gone, fluttering away as he pulls out of her, lifting off her body.

"No! Please, m'gonna cum, please, God, oh my God," she begs, only half aware of the things coming out of her mouth.

"Jesus, girl. Could cum just listenin' to you beg like that," Daryl answers as he roughly flips her on her back.

He yanks her panties the rest of the way off and then his top as Beth watches with half lidded eyes from her place on the bed. The rest of his clothes follow and then he's back, shoving Beth across the bed and hauling her legs over his shoulders. He bends quickly to her dripping pussy, his tongue working her clit until she cries out sharply. He stops as quickly as he started and shoves his cock back into her like he never stopped.

"Cum for me girl, c'mon."

She's still sobbing as he fucks her but her undoing is his rough thumb as it presses against her clit, hard and rough, circling it to the point of pain. Her spine snaps and her teeth clench against a scream as she finally cums. Bright, hot waves of torture descend over her body, washing her in fire from her head to her toes.

"Fuck," Daryl grunts as he tries to fuck her through the tightness of her cunt. "Good girl."

When she finally loosens her muscles, her cunt, her whole body, she sags. Her chest is heaving, her heart is racing and she doesn't think she can keep her eyes open. Daryl lets out a sound that's half a laugh and half a groan as he grabs her hips and fucks into her deep, holding still to fill her with his cum.

He collapses over her with a satisfied sound, his weight crushing her into the bed. "You're such a good girl, Beth. Fuck. Love you."

If only they knew how much of a Good Girl Beth Greene really was.


End file.
